So finally I thot “why should I be a bum? When guys and gals like these will stake me to rum?!”

I’ve enough guts left in me and a few varicose veins, that I can hit it and muck it and pay for those pains!

When guys will meet me and greet me and slap me & shout “Hello you ol’ so & so” and ask where I’ve been

Why should I be a damn fool an let it wear thin?

With friends willing to back me and say I’m okay

Why should I be a damn fool and turn it away?

So said Matson to Matson

Let’s dig in an’ pitch! – an we’ll get the damn sap out of this ditch!------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------After Tempis Fugit on the path to who knows what!------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------An so when time passes, an Mat has paid these luck & lossesHe’ll figure what the h---Wonder what’s in the next dell?O’er over the hill –Could there be a new Jill?So he’ll pack up his gearAnd be long gone from hereWith a song in his heart yet hating to partFrom the guys and the gals who were his best pals.

But golly o’er the next hillThere must be a new JillWhich could be or couldn’t be another new thrill!!!

So after a long time of clowning and booming –It was up to ol’ Mat so see the guy who has charge of our last place of rooming –

His name was St. Pete – a crusty ol’ shifterWho’s made you wish you were still a live grifter - !!

So up comes ol’ MatWith a pint in his pocket & a grin on his puss and his hands in his pocket

Then out steps this shifter lookin’ stern & angelic and says –

“Why hello you dad blamed ol’ Relic!!”

We ain’t building or booming or driving a tunnel!No carnies, no side shows, no grift & no funnel –Now what can you be doin’ a way up here?We’d sort of hate to toss you out on your ear.

He fusses & fumes – he farts and he groans & at long last he finally moans –

“Our Angels are slippin’!”Our Virgins bumped their shins –Our Seraphs are lousy –What we need is a few grins - !!

So where we’re going tomorrow --May be fun or might be sorrow –Let’s always remember –To deal a few grins -- !!

Via Con Dios Amigo an the best of everything to you –

Love – Ell

You’ve delt me a bad timeAn I’ve done the same –God only knowsWhich one’s to blame!

I’ve tried to be toughRugged and stuffBut I’m about ready to yell “That’s enough!”

So we’ll howl for a new dealAn see what fate’s got in her hand –

We’re not tin horns or pikers or (ILLEGIBLE) yetI’ll We can take it and like it an grin I’ll bet!!

++

Please Honey excuse these silly attempts at poetry or what have you!I’m tight an started in on this damn thing at 11 PM last nite! It is now 6 AM so what? Kiss the kid and oh hell ---I still love you!Ell

P.S. Funny what a gal can do to a guy isn’t it?

P.S. A cat jest walked up the hall an I yelled “Please quit stamping your feet!”

++

I’ve caused you a lot of headaches an worries an suchI’m jest a boomer and don’t ‘mount to much –

You’ve babied meYou’ve mothered meAn bawled me out a bitWhen it comes right down to itI’m not worth a chit!As a “Lover” I’m lousyAn my line is FrouzeyBut dam it BonitaLets try another hitch!

Oh dam it kid all I can remember is the lil long haired dark skinned gal that couldn’t cook choc. pudding that I was lucky enough to marry!

Well any how Squirt ya can’t say that I didn’t write you a long letter –

Love & then some

Ell

Look Squirt –

We know all the nasty angles and all the “dirty (ILLEGIBLE)” let’s make a try at it as if we were both Punks!

Ell

P.S. Let’s get together and prove it to Champ that he really has to hump it to line up in the manner of Vic & Ell Matson.

This letter came was written two days later. Looks like he was not quite as spifflicated as when he penned the 12-pager.

SpokaneMay 29 – 42

My Dearest Vic & Champ,

I got a job!! Believe it or not I’m punching transit for 12.00 per day!! & 18.00 for Sat. (which we always get) an if we are lucky an have to work Sundays we get $24.00!! I can’t believe it either but it’s the truth!

In other words, the lowest I can make for a weeks work is $78.00!!

But here’s the rub!! Seems like after all the years of learning & working up to this chance I can’t seem to get a kick out of it! No one to come home to an brag “what a Hot Shot I am etc”! No one to cry to when I’ve had a bad day on the job! Oh well – Please write – Please come –

This "self-portrait" of Ell was included in the letters, photos and other remembrances Victoria kept all her life. When she died, Champ stowed the box in the basement. It remained untouched until our three years of purposeful conversations about his childhood.